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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27163822">thoughts of you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorAE86/pseuds/sailorAE86'>sailorAE86</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Floral Heartache [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Initial D</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Again, Crying, Flowers, Fluff, He's Still an Idiot Though, I also really love orchids, Light Angst, M/M, OR IS IT, Pining, Unrequited Love, but it's okay because he's cute, but sometimes I need a little more, keikumi, keisuke speaks flowers, yes I love kataomoi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:28:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,305</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27163822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorAE86/pseuds/sailorAE86</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven days had passed since Keisuke sent Takumi carnations. Seven painfully lengthy, agonizing days in which he went through every stage of grief and then some.</p><p>Seven days since Keisuke revealed he was in love with him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fujiwara Takumi/Takahashi Keisuke</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Floral Heartache [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982761</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>thoughts of you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well, I definitely didn't plan on writing a sequel or even making a series out of the "kataomoi with flowers" idea. It just sort of... happened. Lol so yeah, here we go again. Some song suggestions include:</p><p>-Thoughts of You - Changing Faces<br/>-Positions - Ariana Grande<br/>-One Love Only - S.O.A.P.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seven days had passed since Keisuke sent Takumi carnations. Seven painfully lengthy, agonizing days in which he went through every stage of grief and then some. Monday consisted of denying he was even remotely attracted to the eight-six driver, despite Keisuke having sent the flowers that Saturday. On Tuesday, he shattered his rather pricey cellphone against the wall, <em> royally pissed </em> with himself that he had sent those damn flowers and quite possibly destroyed their fragile relationship. Wednesday and Thursday were both spent bargaining on his knees; <em> “God, I’ll do whatever you want. Hell, I’ll even stop smoking. Well, I don’t know about that. But please, don’t let him hate me…”. </em>All day Friday, he refused to leave his bed, yearning for death and anything that would stop the all consuming aching in his chest. (Friday had been the depression stage.)</p><p> </p><p>Finally, sunlight streamed in through his uncovered glass balcony doors, dancing across his closed eyelids and rousing him from sleep. Saturday was here, and with it a calming sense of acceptance. Keisuke loved Takumi and Takumi knew it. Takumi didn’t love him back and that was okay. Yes, it currently felt like a deep, gaping slash running along his chest, directly where his heart was. But the bleeding would stop and one day, he would be okay. One day, the cripplingly open and raw vein would close and the love flowing out of him would cease.</p><p> </p><p>(He worried he wouldn’t truly ever be okay, but he had to hope.)</p><p> </p><p>Lying on his side, Keisuke glanced over at his alarm clock. 11:03 AM. He rolled onto his back, grateful that he managed to get a decent night’s sleep after a week of staring up at his ceiling in search of some kind of guidance. </p><p> </p><p>The blonde stretched and found his thoughts on dwelling on Takumi. Though it had been a week since he’d sent those flowers and unbearably emotional card, it had been even longer since he’d laid eyes on Takumi. <em> Two weeks </em>to be exact.</p><p> </p><p>Last Friday’s practice on Mount Akagi had been postponed due to sudden kinks in Ryosuke’s schedule. Ultimately, Keisuke had been glad for the delay. He had drunkenly ordered the carnations the night before, letting his heart slip past his lips when specifying red striped ones on the phone as he downed shots with Kenta. Then, on Friday morning, he hauled his ass to the florist’s because he wanted to write the note himself, splitting headache and all. </p><p> </p><p>However, a few hours before Wednesday’s planned training time, Takumi had not called <em> him,</em> instead phoning <em> Ryosuke</em>. </p><p> </p><p>“Fujiwara said he wasn’t feeling well,” Ryosuke had said, his fingers never disconnecting from his clicking keyboard. </p><p> </p><p>Keisuke flopped down onto his brother’s bed indignantly. “And you believed him?”</p><p> </p><p>The typing had stopped, and he proceeded to turn in his chair to meet Keisuke’s eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?”</p><p> </p><p>For a split second, he had considered telling his brother what he’d done, but thought better of it. He wasn’t ready for the millions of questions, half of which he’d already had his mind stuck on for months and the other half ones that he hadn’t thought of but would now be living rent free in his brain. Instead, he found himself suspiciously leaving Ryosuke’s room and heading for his FD. “It’s nothing, Aniki,” he shot back from the hallway. </p><p> </p><p>That warm spring night, he had gone to Akagi anyways, feeling the weight of the consequences from his impulsive action. Would it be like this always, with Takumi cancelling practice until Project D eventually disbanded? Or could it be far, far worse than that? Would Takumi show up but avoid Keisuke entirely? Keisuke’s fears loomed over him as he hurtled the FD up the mountain, moving through the course like the muscle memory it was at this point.</p><p> </p><p>Wednesday had definitely been vicious, making Saturday’s tranquility a welcome reprieve. Even though the group would be on Akina tonight, Keisuke knew he would keep his composure and embrace Takumi’s rejection. After all, it wasn’t Takumi’s fault he didn’t return his affections, nor was it Keisuke’s fault for loving him in the first place. It was merely emotions complicating things; emotions that Keisuke was willing to shove away if it meant maintaining a friendly rivalry.</p><p> </p><p>Feeling resolute in his feelings, he rose from his bed, sleepily stumbling through the hallway and down the stairs. His already wide awake and immaculate brother addressed him when Keisuke moved into the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning,” Ryosuke said from behind his steaming white mug of coffee, working away on his laptop at the kitchen table. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” he replied in a raspy voice. Yawning, he noisily retrieved his own cup, the ceramic clinking against the others loudly as he pulled it out. Keisuke poured some of the particularly harsh brew into it, anticipating the abrupt sense of consciousness that accompanied his Aniki’s bitter coffee. </p><p> </p><p>His mind stirred at the first sip. “Did Fujiwara cancel on us tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I just spoke to him and he reassured me that he was fine,” Ryosuke said. He paused, tacking on, “in fact, he sounded like he was looking forward to training.”</p><p> </p><p>“Looking forward to it?” Huh. Maybe Takumi was willing to overlook Keisuke’s declaration of love, too. </p><p> </p><p>Before Ryosuke could say more, a knocking on the front door sounded through the house. Eyeing Keisuke’s disheveled wardrobe and bed head hair, he stood. “I’ll get it.”</p><p> </p><p>Nodding, Keisuke leaned against the marble counter, listening to the sounds of the door opening and an unknown voice requesting his brother’s signature. The door then shut and he waited to hear his brother’s returning steps. </p><p> </p><p>“Keisuke, they’re for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t remember ordering anything…” He set his mug down and quickly strode into the foyer. On the small table was a matte black rectangular vase with a little folded card resting in front of it. Long, elegant green stems extended out of the vase, culminating in several gorgeous, ruby red orchids.</p><p> </p><p>Keisuke’s jaw dropped unintentionally, garnering an amused glint in Ryosuke’s eye. Smiling mischievously, he said, “you must’ve left a big impression on a girl, Otouto.”</p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t been on a date in months…” Keisuke murmured quietly, stepping closer to analyze the beautiful flowers. They were definitely orchids, and red ones, too. Because they were not a traditional Japanese flower, they were both expensive to grow domestically as well as to import. Clearly, someone had spent a good bit of money on them. </p><p> </p><p>Although he registered that fact, what truly caught Keisuke’s attention was the color. Anyone who knew anything about flowers understood what the color red meant, no matter what type they were. Love, romance, passion, and desire practically <em> defined </em>that shade. What made red orchids different though was that they also symbolized strength and courage, culminating in a proclamation of love when given to someone who captured the sender’s affections. </p><p> </p><p>With a shaking hand and a hammering heart, Keisuke retrieved the note and pried it open. Small, neat characters greeted him. The blank ink was light, as if the person who penned it didn’t push down very hard.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You’re more than good enough,” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Keisuke’s eyes wandered downwards, blinking away the emerging tears that threatened to blur his vision. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “but you chose the wrong flowers. It’s not unrequited.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The moisture had begun streaking down his face, clouding his vision, but he could still make out the final line of text.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “-Takumi” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Silence encased the two as Keisuke stared intently at the white slip of paper. </p><p> </p><p>“Keisuke?” Ryosuke’s voice dragged him from his trance. Keisuke had forgotten he was even there, and he glanced over his shoulder to see his brother moving behind him, reading the message with puzzled, narrowed eyes. “Why did Fujiwara send you flowers?”</p><p> </p><p>More tears fell. Breaking out into a grin, Keisuke simply replied, “because it’s not unrequited.”</p>
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